Nightmare
by 8 rainbow stegosaurus 8
Summary: Long ago, England nearly went insane. He saved himself by removing his insanity, which turned into another being. Now, that being has returned. 2p!Hetalia fanfic. Rated T for horror and language.
1. Chapter 1

**Oi! What's up?! Now that I finally have my wifi back, I can FINALLY post this! Now, I'm a bit slow, but I finally heard about the 2p! Hetalia characters. When I watched Hetalia, I liked America, Japan, and England. If you've read my other fanfiction, Jinxed, you know that I have a bit of a thing for horror and/or insanity. That being said, when I saw 2p! England, I fan girl squealed loudly, got some popeyes, and began to write. I plan on making this a decently long story so if you were hoping for like, 2 chapters…prepare to be disappointed. **

**DISCLAIMER.**

**Hetalia is NOT mine. 2p! Hetalia is also NOT mine.**

**Now, let's begin…**

_Prologue _

_During the revolutionary war…._

"Why…?" England choked, "Dammit why?! It's not fair!" America looked down sympathetically, "You know why." He answered softly. Arthur continued to sob. "What happened?" America continued, "I remember when you were great." It was settled, America had won, and the two went their own separate ways. America went with a sense of freedom, while England left with a cold twist of anger and sadness. '_How could America be ok with just leaving?_' he thought. He'd raised America, obviously he'd become emotionally attached, he just wasn't ready to let go yet. "America, you idiot…" mumbled England. Gray storm clouds swirled above him. "I never wanted you to see me like that." The dirt, muddy from the rain, squashed as England silently walked home.

When England reached his house, he was drenched with mud, rain, and some blood left over from the war. Even so, England hung his soaked coat and slumped down on his couch, ignoring the mess he was making. He sat in silence for a while, trying to regain his composure and get it through his head that America was gone. '_God damn…what's wrong with me?_' thought England. He'd never felt this emotion before. He was so mad he could kill, so sad he could disappear, and yet, there was a sense of happiness. '_I must be going insane…_' Suddenly England's eyes widened and he sat up, "I must be…going insane." He whispered. England let out a slight chuckle, "No… I'm fine…" he trailed off. He lay back down on the couch. Slowly, he drifted off into a deep sleep.

_Britain lazily examined his surroundings, he was in a checkered room, it was small, with no doors. "England…" a voice whispered. "England…." "W-what? Who's there?" England turned around. Whoever, or whatever, had addressed him refused to reveal themself as the Englishman noticed a shadow dart off somewhere. "You can't escape it." The voice continued, wispy and venomous, "There is much pain in your future." Arthur didn't like the sound of that, his eyes darted around the room, "Who are you? What are you talking about?" The voice ignored his questions, and instead let out a soft snicker, "It's starting, I suggest you wake up." "No!" England growled. "Tell me what's happeni—" _

Britain's eyes flashed open, he sat up. Memories of his dream flooded back to him causing chills to run up his spine. It was a short dream, but it had been so vivid. England still remembered the fear he'd felt. "I have to be sure…" Arthur trailed off in a whisper. He ran out of the room, leaving the carpet dusted with dirt from his still messy clothes as he went. 

England continued to run upstairs and down a hallway. As he ran he saw his reflection in the mirror. Of course it was just a flash because, once again, he'd been running, but he still noticed something different, he backed up and took a second look, he didn't like what he saw.

It was almost as if he was being eaten, part of his head had been completely altered. Part of his hair had become a whitish pink, part of his skin became eerily pale, and one of his eyes had turned a strangely bright blue. England was so frightened that all he could manage was a slight whimper before sprinting for his room.

The second he flung open the door he began to frantically rummage through his books. "Where is it…where is it… where is it…" England trailed off. "AH HA!" England exclaimed happily as he held up a book entitled, "Black Magic", he hugged the book tightly, then slammed it on a nearby table and began violently flipping through the pages. When he reached a certain page his face lit up. England mumbled what was written on the page and walked over to the other side of the room to retrieve with some paper, ink, and a quill. He set the three objects on the table, then dipped the quill in the ink and quickly wrote something from the spell book. When he finished writing, he sighed and glanced over at a nearby mirror to see how he was doing.

It wasn't good; Arthur's neck was beginning to become eggshell white, his hair was completely light pink, and his other eye was part green, part electric blue. England began to work faster; he stood up and quickly, yet loudly, chanted what he'd written on the paper. It wasn't language, but it sounded like it could have been. Soon after, England began to glow; he dropped the paper and curiously examined his illuminated skin. "Whoa…" whispered Arthur in amazement. Suddenly, England cried out and fell to his knees. "Ack…" he coughed, a drip of blood escaped the corner of his mouth. There was a bright light, England screamed in pain. From the view of an onlooker, it would seem that another person was being torn from Arthur. England continued yelling until the other person was completely separated from him. As soon as this happened, Arthur's body fell to the ground limply. "Uuuggh…" he moaned weakly. He used the strength he had left to look at what had been created.

It was _him_, but different, it was the pale, blue-eyed thing that he would've been, only these eyes weren't exactly blue anymore, they were opal, and swirling with insanity. "W-what are you?" England rasped. But his apparent twin ignored him. Instead he glared at Arthur coldly, "You…." He replied with a smile, "I'll kill you!" he screeched. He cackled maniacally and began to charge at England, but was stopped. In an instant, the floor began to swirl and open, the 'thing' fell in. "I'll KILL YOU!" he repeated in a slightly mocking tone. England just stared wide-eyed as his doppelganger plummeted, the floor closed as he fell.

When it was all over, England forced himself to stand. He wobbled but was able to keep his balance. Arthur laughed softly, "It worked!" he exclaimed, he laughed more, "It actually worked! I don't care about the revolution anymore!" He looked down at himself, his clothes were still damp, muddy and speckled with blood, and he was covered with scrapes and bruises. "Dear god, I look terrible!" yelled Arthur. He then ran out the door to go take a shower.

_Chapter 1_

_Present day…_

"Okay dudes! Time to discuss some serious stuff, now bros! For real, what's goin' on around you guys' hoods?" America rambled. "Werl," said Japan, "we stirl need herlp with some of the tsunami damage costs, and considering you owe us qurite a rot of money, maybe you cood contribute a rittle?" America laughed obnoxiously, "Sorry dude! I'm flat broke! Anyone else?" "Yes." said England, "Would the fact that you're, er…'flat broke' have anything to do with that pile of hamburgers you're inhaling?" Alfred let out another one of his signature laughs, "What pile of hamburgers?" "The one you're eati—huh?!" England looked down to where the pile of hamburgers was, only to see a couple of crumbs, "H-how did you..?" Arthur trailed off. "Next?!" America yelled happily.

It was an average day; everyone was being their normal selves. England still thought about that night years ago, he still remembered what he'd said, _'I'LL KILL YOU!' _England winced, that screeching wasn't something he could just forget. Sometimes he wondered if that, 'thing' would keep his word. It was actually quite a terrifying thing to think about.

After another few minutes of getting absolutely nowhere, the meeting was disbanded. Everyone left to go home, but as England was leaving, a familiar voice beckoned him, "Yo dude! I got this sweet new game! Wanna come over and play?" "I thought you said you had no money." England pointed out. "Nah, I just don't want to pay back Japan. Don't tell him okay?" Japan, who had been right behind America, sighed and walked past them awkwardly. America didn't seem to notice and continued speaking to the Brit in front of him, "So, are you gonna come over?" "Sure." replied Arthur. "But only because I have nothing better to do at home." "Cool beans bro! Let's go!" America grabbed England's wrist tightly and dragged him all the way to his house.

"Dude! It's so cool that you're gonna play video games with me bro!" England just nodded in response. America seemed acceptant of this and continued his rambling, "Yo, dude, check out this sweet new games console I got!" England, not knowing nor caring what kind of console America owned, simply replied, "Interesting. So, what's this videogame called?"

America smiled widely, "Mario Kart 8!" he exclaimed. He threw a controller at England. "How do you play?" asked Arthur as he caught it. Alfred looked like he'd just been traumatized. "You haven't heard Mario Kart?!" "Idiot." replied England, "I've _heard _of Mario Kart, I've just never _played_ Mario Kart." "Uh huuuh…" America replied, "Well, it goes like this…"

So, Alfred had to explain the entire game of Mario Kart to England. Lucky that was only about an hour, and they played for a while; with, of course, America being crowned victor almost every time.

After finally giving up on trying to beat America at this mindless, yet somehow addictive, game; England decided it was about time he headed home. "Hey, America, I think I'm going to head back to my house now." Arthur stated, standing up as he did so. "Eh? Okay, that's cool dude." He replied. England nodded and took his leave. Behind him he could hear America's yelling. "Yo, Tony! Wanna play dude?!" Arthur sighed and closed the door behind him.

Outside, a familiar thunderstorm raged. England looked up at the sky for a moment, concerned, but brushed off his nervous feeling as he sat down in his car. He drove to the airport, and flew home.

"Ah, finally here." England chimed. It was raining outside there as well, but that was normal. The cream-colored moon shone through the storm and watched Arthur as he opened his door and strolled inside; he was heading for his couch when, _CLANG. _

England felt a sharp pain surge through the back of his head as he fell down towards the cold, tile floor that was waiting for him.

**So? Is it good? Sorry, can't hear you, laws of physics won't allow it. You're going to have to review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! When I got a crapload of followers with chapter 1, I began to type the next chapter immediately. I should warn you that there is some light USUK in this chapter. Nothing big, but some people might interpret it differently. So here it is…**

**DISCLAIMER**

**Hetalia? Not mine.**

Chapter 2

"Wow Tony, you're pretty good at this dude." noted America, stunned. "Fucking bitchy." the alien replied. "What do you mean?!" Alfred exclaimed, "You've beat me ten times straight already!" Tony shrugged, "bitch fuck…" America sighed, "You know what? I quit. Congratulations, dude, you win." The American stood up and began walking toward his kitchen, "I kinda wish Britain was still over, he sucked ass at the game, but at least_ I_ got to win." He opened up his refrigerator and began to rummage through various items, after retrieving a soda, Alfred slammed the doors shut. "Hm, I wonder what he's been up to lately…" he thought aloud.

"Bitch."

"Good point, bro."

"Unnngggggh…My head hurts…." England complained groggily. He opened his eyes slowly. It took him a moment to recognize where he was, but when he did; he swore he felt his heart stop. He remembered this room all too well; he used to go into it a lot until he had it remodeled. It was the same as it'd always been, a small bed, a cute nightstand, action figures speckled the floor. "America's room…" Britain mumbled in amazement. "America's _old_ room." a voice corrected. "You remember it, right?" Instead of taking this opportunity to yell at the unknown individual, England stared off into space, his eyes glazing as he recalled.

_Arthur sighed as he wrote; his country was in a bit of a mess right now, so he was forced to send out letters to other countries asking for help. He didn't expect much, but it was worth a try. Suddenly, a young voice cut through the silence. _

"_England! England! Come here!" America called. "Just a moment!" the Englishman replied. "Aw, come on! Hurry!" Alfred yelled, impatient. England chuckled lightheartedly, "Ok, I'm on my way." America ran out into the hallway and grabbed England's hand. "Hurry! You're going to miss it!" The Brit just smiled as he was dragged into the American's room. _

_ "See?! Look!" America pointed to his window. England strolled over to it; he smiled as he saw a large yellow butterfly perched on the windowsill. Slowly, Arthur reached out his finger for the insect. The butterfly gracefully obliged, walking onto the Englishman's finger without hesitation. Alfred, who'd just walked over, smiled brightly, "Woah! It's on your hand!" he exclaimed happily. England turned around; he smiled as he brought the finger with the butterfly on it up to the American's nose. Within a flutter of wings, the butterfly rested in the middle of America's face. Alfred laughed cheerfully, and the insect flew away as he did so. "Aw, it left…" he trailed off, disappointed. England watched the butterfly exit the room with a grin, but frowned when he noticed a tear trickle down the young nation's cheek. "Are you alright?" he asked softly. "It was so pretty," America explained, "I wanted to keep it…" England smiled and put a hand on Alfred's shoulder, "You couldn't have just held it captive forever, America." he said._

"_Everyone deserves freedom." _

England was interrupted by the voice again, "Everyone, huh? Apparently not, considering America had to fight you for his." Britain gasped slightly, wondering how exactly this _thing _had read his thoughts, but something told him that he wouldn't get any answers. He grimaced, "I just wanted to protect him," he explained, sitting down on America's bed, "he grew up so fast that I wasn't sure he was ready yet." There was a moment of silence, "Hm, yes, but wouldn't him defeating you have proven that he was ready?" the voice inquired. "He was digging his own grave, without a foundation to hold him up I thought his nation would crash around him!" Arthur argued. The voice chuckled lightly, mockingly, "ah, I see, but, whose world _really_ crashed around them? Hm?"

Arthur was silent; he glanced down at the soft carpet beneath him, a glossy toy soldier stared back at him. He knew the answer to that question, but he just didn't have the heart to answer it. The unknown entity remained quiet as well, possibly waiting for an answer. "What reason do you have to torture me like this?" England asked in a low voice. "Oh, I have a few, but I think that only one of them _truly_ concerns you." England jerked his head up, "What reason would that be?" he asked. The voice let out another annoying chuckle. "Tell me," said the voice, "do you remember_ this_?"

Suddenly, the room began to crack and shatter, Arthur looked around frantically as the brick walls began to break like glass. He couldn't pay attention to the room's renovations as he was dodging pieces of the breaking ceiling above him. '_What the hell is wrong with this… thing?!" _thought England, he wondered why he hadn't asked himself that earlier. When the room was finally done changing, the Englishman took time to look around. Yes, he did recognize this new room, but he wished he hadn't. England jumped back a couple feet when the floor swirled open, as he peered down through the opening in the tile, he could just barely make out the shape of a figure falling. England immediately recognized the figure to be that _monster_ from so long ago. Something was different though; a closer look revealed to Arthur that the look on the falling figure's face was not the look of pure insanity he'd remembered. No, it was far from it, this was an expression of pure fear. When the floor swirled shut again, the room instantaneously retained its homey appearance.

"Does it make sense to you _now_?" the voice said, its tone was soft, but slight malice was evident to anyone who may have heard it. England turned around quickly as he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. The voice revealed itself to be _exactly_ who England thought it would be.

There stood England's doppelganger. He held an oddly serious expression as he walked toward Arthur. "So, it _is_ you…" England tried to sound calm, but felt his voice crack. The person before him didn't seem to notice, if he did, he didn't care. "Does it make sense to you now?" the thing repeated. He didn't give Arthur much time to answer, if any at all, "I'm doing this because of you. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be plummeting to your death? And then, I didn't even earn the luxury of dying! I was forced walk to a safe place with a shattered leg, three broken ribs, and a cracked skull! I had no one._ Nobody_ helped me. I was alone, cold, and in pain. Do you have _any _idea what that's like?!" "Can't say that I do." England replied. "I've spent years watching you, Arthur." The demon continued. "I realized something. You have so much more than me, people care about you, you have _friends_. I hate you for that." Arthur remained silent, he was definitely scared, but he became just short of terrified when he saw a crooked smirk on his opposite's face. "Now," it said, "I know you who love, who you hate, everyone you've ever cared about and everyone who's ever cared about you. Now, heh heh, I'm going to make you watch it all crash down around you." England held his breath, "What exactly are you going to do?" he asked nervously. "I'm going to kill them _all_, and _you_ get to _watch_ the whole thing." England gulped; he didn't like the sound of that very much. In fact, he wanted to attack the sick bastard right then, but his body wouldn't comply, "M-monster…" he stuttered weakly. "Please," the doppelganger chuckled,

"Call me, _Oliver_."

**Yay! All done! How was it~? Sorry about taking so long to upload… Here's what happened:**

**ME: Okay internet! Let's upload this chapter! :D**

**INTERNET: Go fuck yourself. -3-**

**ME: D:**

**SCHOOL: Hellooo!**

**Yeah, my computer's an ass and school has bad timing…*sigh*…sorry 'bout that…Anyway, REVIEW! FOLLOW! FAVORITE! READ MY **_**OTHER**_** STORIES! TELL YOUR FRIENDS! GIVE A WALRUS A PIZZA! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Yo! I cried with joy when I saw how many people followed, favorited, and/or reviewed this…I also remembered something, in Jinxed, I'd reply to my reviews…so up here I'm going to reply to the chapter 1 reviews, and after the chapter I'll reply to the reviews for chapter 2, sound cool? The answer to that question is **_**yes**_**.**

**sotnosen93-Yup, that **_**damn**_** 2p phase… I'm glad you chose this story to…er…*reads review again*… 'satisfy' you. **** Thanks for following~!**

**Well, that was fast, now…**_**le story**_**... **

Chapter 2

Oliver laughed to himself, '_this is going to be fun…_' he thought. "What are you laughing about?" Arthur asked coldly, his burst of confidence came to a crashing end due to the sadistic smirk he got in reply. "Well, since you asked," Oliver spun around. "I'm laughing because I've waited about 236 years for this, it's quite amazing actually." The doppelganger strolled casually behind England. When the Englishman attempted to turn his head to get a look at the other's actions, Oliver grabbed his head and forced him to look straight ahead. "No peeking~!" he mused. Arthur felt his wrists being grasped by cold hands. Then, something metallic touched his skin. "Handcuffs..?" he mumbled questioningly. "Ooh~! So smart!" Oliver's tone was sweet, but definitely a bit passive-aggressive. Arthur let out a slight gasp as his opposite shoved him forward roughly. "This way." he said sweetly, leading England forward.

The door to America's room opened on its own and England was led into yet another memorable room. Yes, the glossy checkered interior was just enough to jog the Englishman's memory. This was the room from that insanely vivid dream from so long ago. England looked around the room cautiously, chills running down his spine as he remembered. "Ah, from the looks of you, I'll say you recall the last time you were here, yes?" The door the two had entered through slammed shut and disappeared. England ignored this and made an attempt to look at his captor, "What are you doing _now_?" he asked, angry. His doppelganger was left unaffected by this and simply smiled. "Tell me, are you aware of what this room is for?" he asked. "To creep me out?" answered England sarcastically. Oliver chuckled, "Funny, but no. This room actually has some _intelligence _to it." He reached behind him and pressed a large button. In an instant, every black area of the checkered room flashed; England realized they were screens.

Each screen displayed a face, at the moment they were sleeping, but Arthur still recognized them. They were his fellow countries. "Hee Hee! See? Now you can watch them all die, and no matter where you look, you'll see the face of one of your loved ones." England took another look at all of the screens, "They're all asleep." He said, "Are you so cowardly that you won't even let them put on a fight?" The Englishman could sense Oliver smirking behind him, "Oh no," he laughed, "I'm definitely going to wait until they're awake, I want you to see the pain, the _fear_, in their eyes." England clenched his fists, his doppelganger noticed this and chuckled, "Angry, yes? Well, get this, when I kill them, I'll be doing it as _you_." "W-what?" England made a futile attempt to look at his opposite. "Of course, their death will be much more hard on you knowing that they died thinking _you_ killed them. We look alike, I can take some of your clothes, dye my hair, compose myself a bit… No one will be able to tell the difference!"

England stared at the ground, the screen below him revealed America, sleeping soundly. Oliver was right, not many people paid much attention to Arthur anyway, they probably wouldn't notice _any_ difference. If they did, they probably wouldn't care. '_No…._' he thought, '_someone has to care….someone has to notice….someone…_' he looked at America's screen, then he looked next to it to see Germany's screen, above his was Italy's. They were all sleeping so soundly, unaware of their fate, completely oblivious to the horrors that waited for them. Arthur didn't know what came over him, he began thrashing wildly, anything to loosen Oliver's grip on his wrists. The latter simply let go, the Brit's own energy sent him to the floor. "Gchk!" England choked when he clashed with the floor. His doppelganger gave an amused face, "Well, I'm leaving!" he chimed. "Enjoy this," he gestured to the screens, "tonight is the last time you'll see them so peaceful." With that, he waved his hand lazily, and walked through the wall, disappearing.

"Guh, no!" Arthur yelled. He stood up swiftly; he lifted his foot and kicked it back to break the chain on the handcuffs. It worked. With a, _chink!_ the chain broke. England immediately ran towards the wall, he tried to break through with no avail. His punches proved useless as the wall stood strong. Sleeping faces seemed to mock him as they ignorantly stared him down. Arthur sat down, trying to calm himself. He glanced at everyone once more, everyone was still sleeping. After a few minutes of staring blankly at everybody, England soon joined them in their slumber.

**Yay! All done! I did it! And before anyone decides to comment on it, yes, I realize that the Asian countries should all be awake right now. I just felt it would set a better mood if they were asleep. Anyway, before I reply to the reviews for last chapter, I'd like to inform you that I just posted a Hetalia crack fanfiction, it's not as emotional and serious as this story, but I still think it's pretty cool. It's called, 'The Epic Adventures of the Hetalia Heroes!' if you want to read it… ANYWAY. Now to reply to your reviews~!**

**Alaska F. Braginski-Glad you like it! And I don't know if I'll make 2p!England do that…he's a pretty crazy dude… Wait, I know that username, do you use that username on YouTube too…? (Not trying to invade your privacy, just curious)**

**DaphneAngelina432- A new follower?! Sweeeeeeeet. And you **_**will**_** get to know what happens next! (Next chapter)**

**CactusNoir-You raise a good point, Oliver may have over-reacted about that. And yes, someone should probably kick his ass. I won't, I need him for the story…**

**Super Sister- You have a catchy username, I hope realize I just spent five minutes of my time just going, "SUPAH SEESTAH!" repeatedly. Anyway, I like where this is going too. Also, no, you don't sound like a loon (try harder! You'll get it one day! It's not hard to be loony! Oliver could teach you!). **

**ALRIGHTY! That's all for now! Pleeeeeeeeeaase review! I run on those things! **


	4. Chapter 4

**HELLO! I, once again, was pleased with the reviews this story got. So, thanks dudes! :D**

Chapter 4

Arthur slowly opened his eyes. Upon waking, he was startled for a moment that he was on the floor. He calmed down when he recalled yesterday's events. He wasn't used to this room just yet. Glancing around, England noticed that a few people were already awake. Germany was gelling up his hair, Japan was eating, Switzerland was polishing one of his many guns, Austria was playing piano, and Hungary was in her bed, intently staring at something in the distance. England let out a small sigh; he looked around at the countries that were still sleeping. They looked so happy; none of them even knew he was gone. To this realization, the English country felt a small ache somewhere in him.

England stood up, he gave a look that looked mischievous, but still serious, "So, _Oliver_ was it?" he called out, "Who's your _first_ victim then?" He didn't know for sure, but Arthur had a feeling that Oliver could hear him. He found his hunch to be correct when a voice came from behind him. "Actually," it said, "_you're _going to choose the _first_ victim." England turned around quickly. "What…?" he questioned. Oliver, who was in the room now, took a step toward Arthur, "You heard me, now choose someone, or else I _might_ decide to torture you."

England visibly flinched, he hated to admit it, but he was truly scared by the thought of being tormented. You're supposed to stay strong and stand up for those you love, but anguish would just break you in the end, so, what's the use? England glanced at the screens, '_maybe I'll pick someone I don't know…_' he thought. He looked at the many faces; he came upon the face of a blonde girl. She was still sleeping. It took him a moment to remember her name. '_Belgium._' He shook his head, '_No… I couldn't do that…_' England looked around some more, only to find that he knew everyone else who was on the screens. '_Wait…That can't be right,_' he thought. '_I know a lot of countries, but I know that there's more than one that I don't know very well…_'

Oliver, almost reading Arthur's mind, answered his question, "Remember, these are people who you love, hate, or care about." he said, "Although, I did throw in one or two that you don't know to help you out. I may hate you, but I _do_ have a heart."** "**A _heart_?!" England argued. "Either way someone dies!" Oliver cut Arthur off with a chuckle, "Yes, I guess that's true," he admitted, "but I figured it'd be a bit easier on you if you had the option to avoid killing your friends, or your enemies, for a little while." '_Enemies…_' thought Arthur. '_France…_'The Englishman turned and gave his nemesis' screen a short glance. '_Ah, no… that's not good either…_' he thought. France _may_ be his enemy, but he couldn't deny they had history together. They'd helped each other in the past. As much as England hated the Frenchman, he couldn't just _kill_ him.

Then Arthur's gaze fell back onto Belgium. Maybe it _would_ be easier to kill her. England didn't know her, so there were no memories that would haunt him later on. Arthur shook his head, angry with himself. How could he even _consider_ being so cold? He stared at her face a while longer, deciding whether or not she should live. She was still asleep, so it was hard to tell whether or not she had a good personality. Oliver was becoming impatient. "You know what? Never mind, forget what I said earlier." he said, frustrated, "I'll choose who will dies." With that, the doppelganger left.

After his opposite's words registered in his mind, fear pulsed through him. "Wait! I…I can pick someone!" England yelled. He had no idea what he was saying, let alone who he'd choose. He frantically beat on the wall where Oliver had exited the room just moments ago, but it was too late. Arthur's doppelganger was gone. Fists aching, England leaned forward until his forehead was against the wall; or, more specifically, on Russia's screen. He stayed in that position, silently praying for everyone's lives; to every god he was aware of.

Eventually, Arthur decided to walk around. Everyone was awake, going about their everyday lives, it was actually very interesting. He spent an hour or so watching America play a video game. After he understood its concept, England found himself absent-mindedly giving America advice. Despite the fact that the American couldn't hear him, he continued to yell things like, "No! Up! Up you idiot! AH! That's not a combo! No! No! Wait…Yes! Now that's how you strategize!" After getting tired of that, England decided to see what France was doing. He looked to the Frenchmen's screen to find that Francis was merely sipping wine. This bored England after around five minutes and he moved on to the next screen. Germany was training, viciously attacking a punching bag that was hanging limply from his ceiling. When Arthur finally got bored of this, he remembered the blonde from earlier. '_Belgium…_' he reminded himself. Suddenly, Arthur realized that this could be his chance to possibly learn a bit more about her. Although, it was quite a stalkerish way to learn about someone. The Englishman eased over to her screen. England felt himself go pale as he noticed something,

Belgium had never woke up.

**DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN. Cliffhanger! Mwahaha! Ah, sorry about the wait, school decided to be a douche. So he sent his homies, Algebra and Cross Country, to stop me from making this chapter… But I defeated them…sorta. Anyway, hope you liked the chapter blah blah blah... I'm going to reply to your reviews now…:3**

**sotnosen93- Ah curiosity, sucks doesn't it…? Meh, **_**I **_**say you should keep reading. :D**

**Alaska F. Braginski- MWAHAHAHAAAAAH!**

**Super Sister- SUPAH SEESTAH! *ahem* yes, that **_**did**_** make me think you thought it sucked…In fact, it nearly scared the living shit out of me…On a different note, thank you, for that awesome review. As you already know, this is, yet another, short chapter.**

**DaphneAngelina432-Yeah…poor guy…**

**OK! That's all! Now, REEEEEEEVIIEEEEEEWW! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Greetings! First of all, I'd like to thank Alaska F. Braginski and Prussianess for notifying me that I screwed up when uploading this chapter. But it's fixed now! As you all know, I looooooove reviews! So, every time get a review on any of my stories I'm very happy about it. This time, however, my reviews not only made me happy, they also kind of interested me. So, I'm going to go ahead and answer them right here!**

**Alaska F. Braginski- wow, that's all you wanted? MY BUISINESS IS DONE.**

**Friendly Person- Wow, I actually didn't know about that history… I assure you I didn't jump on my computer yelling, "HISTORICAL INACCURACY FOR ALL!" repeatedly, I'll see what I can do to fix that mistake. Thank you for telling me.**

**DaphneAngelina432- some people like to sleep in…**

**CrazyGirl19- YOU SHALL.**

**Makorra-I probably should but…*stares across the room at endless pile of homework*…I can't…**

**Prussianess-I LOVE THEM TOO! And will he offer them a cupcake? We'll see…**

**Okay! Story time!**

Chapter 5

England stared at Belgium's face, it'd had lost color. She looked almost as if she was really cold; her skin had an eerie paleness to it. Another thing that was unsettling was that in the back of his mind, Arthur felt as if he'd _recalled_ Belgium from somewhere. Other than world meetings or when she'd helped France. A faint memory that wouldn't go away, and then it hit him.

_"A war, huh?" England asked. "A world war." The person next to him corrected. The Englishman sighed, "I should have figured…" The redhead next to him laughed. "Aye, so, when're you going to join?" Arthur gave Ireland an astonished look, "J-join…?" he stuttered. "Why?" "Well…" Ireland trailed off, "…to help someone." "Who would that be?" inquired England. "Ah, just some lass … Belgium." "Oh?" England looked intrigued; he wasn't used to his brother being this nice to him, but now he was also mentioning a girl? To _him_? Ireland shook his head, "Whatever, you ain't got a choice anyhow." "Huh?!" yelled England. "Yup, so pack your stuff. You're leaving tomorrow." With that, the Irish man left the room. England could have easily refused, he could have held his ground and insisted the he stay home, but because of his brother, he suddenly wanted to join the war. If for no other reason, to help that girl…_

"I remember now…" England almost whispered. He looked back at the screen, silently hoping that Belgium would wake up, that she was just sick, or something along those lines. He looked around the room, stopping when he saw Ireland's screen. He was lying on a couch, staring at the ceiling, sometimes taking a drink of liquid from a bottle. Presumably, it was alcohol, "Sorry…I couldn't help her this time…" England said. He looked around at the other screen. Life went on normally for everyone else. '_Nobody knows yet…_' thought Arthur, and suddenly, he realized that some would _never_ know. At that startling realization, the Englishman began to think about how easily Belgium would be forgotten. '_Will the same go for me?_' Arthur thought. He shook his head vigorously. "No…" he whispered. '_Someone will remember…_' He paced around the room. "Oliver, what did you do to her?!"

Far away, Belgium lay lifeless in her bed. Over her, stood a satisfied looking Oliver. He was wearing a dark green English military uniform, his hair had been dyed a yellowy blonde, his eyebrows were black lines, and his eyes were an emerald green. He'd disguised himself as Arthur. Oliver smirked as he looked at the object in Belgium's hand. It was a cupcake, strawberry flavored, with a single bite taken from it.

England had been wrong, Belgium _had _woken up. Only to be greeted by one that she'd assumed to be England. She was hesitant to accept the cupcake given to her by the man. She'd taken a small bite to test the taste, but then it was all over. "Do you know what the secret ingredient is?" Oliver had asked mockingly. He leaned in close to her, Belgium's eyes were wide. She was paralyzed. Fear was plastered on her face as she attempted to look at who she thought was Arthur. Oliver tapped her nose lightly, "Surprise, it's batrachotoxin~!" he chimed. Belgium's expression suddenly went blank. She fell back on to the mattress like a rag doll. With a childish smile, the doppelganger closed the girl's eyes. He left quietly. On his walk home, Oliver ran into The Netherlands. "Hi…England." he said. "Hello," Oliver replied, "Going somewhere?" "Yeah, I wanted to visit Belgium." The Netherlands answered. "Ah, marvelous idea!" Oliver smiled, "Good day to you then!" He continued walking. When he'd walked a significant distance from The Netherlands, a mischievous grin settled on Oliver's face. "Indeed…a truly _marvelous _idea."

Oliver was suddenly proud of the precaution he'd taken. He looked at his watch. In approximately four minutes a bomb set in Belgium's house would release chlorine gas. Not much, just enough to kill anyone who stepped foot into the household. Oliver silently praised his instincts as he nearly skipped along the sidewalk.

Back in the checkered room, England curiously looked at the green tint covering Belgium's screen. Technical difficulties maybe? A glance to the other screens proved that theory to be false. He gasped, "Chlorine…." England trailed off. '_Was that how he'd killed her?_' he wondered. '_No, she had to have been dead before the gas was there…'_

What Arthur didn't see was that outside of Belgium's room, or rather, on the screen behind him. The Netherlands was lying on the floor, coughing violently. His eyes were irritated and he couldn't see. It was hard to breathe.

The last thing he saw as he strained to see past the misty green cloud was Belgium, dead, on her mattress.

**Done! I'm very sorry about the short chapter… but I had a good reason…**

**School: MWAHAHA!**

…**.Yeah, so, hope you enjoyed it blah blah blah…. Also, remember the crack fanfiction I told you all about…? Well, it's one of those hard to find fanfictions… but I still want people to read it… so, if you want to get out of the depressing mood you may or may not be in, here's a link to the story:**

**s/8579280/1/The-Epic-Adventures-of-the-Hetalia-Heroes**

**Well, that's it, so...FAVORITE! FOLLOW! REVIEW!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sup, really sorry for being gone, but I have a badass excuse for my absence. Okay… so I was fighting some ninjas, but all I had was a pickle! And the ninjas went all…ninja… and summoned these Czechoslovakian unicorns who began to vomit narwhals. The narwhals challenged me to a game of chess, but instead of a chess board, we used a cow. The cow had a rare condition that made it spew milk involuntarily from its ears. That happened mid- game and milk got in my eyes. I couldn't see, and activated Chuck Norris' trap card. It made it so I'd continue to be blind until I agreed to employ a tree to work at a strip club. It took a while, but eventually I did it, for you guys. Congratulations. Anyway, reviews made me do the smile thing... *is happy*…. Blah blah blah walrus… obviously I don't have much more to say, enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter 6

"Knock! Knock!" Oliver smiled as he entered the glossy, checkered room. By now, England had noticed The Netherland's screen and was depressed. He said nothing as he sat at the side of the room. His doppelganger sadistically refused to notice, "Ah, yes, that's two gone. But…" Olive got down on one knee and leaned towards the Englishman in front of him, "…there's many more to go." He stood back up. Arthur had paled to the sound of his opposite's cold words. "What?" Oliver asked. "We've just started, are you broken already? You barely _knew_ them!"

"Shut up."

For the first time since Oliver had entered the room, England spoke. He stood up. "I'm not _broken_, Idiot. I'm fine." Arthur let venom lace through his words. Pride overtook him as green eyes locked on to blue ones. "The fact that you think I'd go down so easily is insulting. _Nothing _can break me." He took another step forward. "And if you think that you can change that, I believe that you have another thing coming."

Oliver held his ground, and a grin. "I see." He replied. He took a few steps for the door. "Let's see if that's still your opinion after all of this." The doppelganger exited the checkered room through the wall, leaving England alone once again. England sat on the floor in silence.

Far away, Germany sighed. He had noticed the absence of The Netherlands and Belgium, mostly because he lives relatively close to the two of them. Now, he stood outside of Belgium's house. He'd knocked on the door, but received no answer. The German was tempted to kick down the door, but refrained. However, he still had to find the two; a country has responsibilities, because Belgium and The Netherlands weren't tending to these responsibilities, their economies were beginning to crash. Germany couldn't just sit back and watch this happen to one of his neighbors. Ludwig tapped his fist against the door once more. He muttered something under his breath and began to pace around the house, the German stopped when he reached the window. He peered into the glass, in an instant, we wished he hadn't.

The window gave a display of Belgium's room. The first thing Ludwig noticed was the greenish yellow gas filling the room. He recognized it immediately. It was the exact same gas he'd used in World War I. "Chlorine…" he muttered. The second thing he noticed was Belgium, lying lifeless on her bed. "No…" Germany whispered in disbelief. If a country's government fails then said country has a large chance of dying. That was why Germany wanted to get the countries back to work, so they'd live. The irony of it was that at least one of them was already dead, and that was the _reason _her economy wasn't doing so well. Ludwig felt sick, he had to turn away. After a moment of thinking, he decided he had to get her out of there. The German ran home to retrieve a gas mask; he also made a few phone calls to other countries letting them know about the incident.

"Dude, really? Wow… that sucks…" America said. He didn't sound like it, but he was sad. Believe it or not he was friends with the girl country. "I'm going to head over there, okay?"

"Oh, mon Seigneur!" exclaimed France. The Frenchmen was surprised, there hadn't been a country death in a long time.

"Dead? Is that so? Tragic…" Oliver had answered England's phone. Of course, Germany didn't notice. Oliver was actually quite good at acting composed, and when he did so, he sounded _exactly _like Arthur. He hung up the phone with a smirk, loving the fact that no one suspected him.

Germany made a few more calls and received reactions of the same genre. He grabbed his gas mask and ran back to Belgium's house. America was waiting for him by the window; he had obviously seen the body. The American was leaning against the wall, he was pale, and Germany suspected that he'd vomited a couple times, too. "Sorry," Germany apologized. "I don't have a gas mask for you." America shook his head, "No, it's cool, you go ahead dude." Ludwig nodded, with his gasmask on, he went inside. He returned relatively fast with Belgium on his back, he gently set her on the ground. Alfred was surprised when Germany turned to go back in. "What're you doing?" he asked. "I found The Netherlands." The German replied solemnly. With that, he went back into the house and retrieved the other country. Setting him down next to Belgium. "You grab Belgium, and I'll grab The Netherlands…" Germany muttered. America nodded a picked up Belgium bridal style. Germany hoisted The Netherlands over his shoulder. "What about the gas?" Alfred asked, gesturing toward the house with a nod. "I left the door open," Germany explained. "The gas will leave the house." Ludwig said no more. He and America walked in silence. "Where are we taking them?" America asked. "For now, to my house." Germany answered. Alfred nodded in response.

England looked curiously at America's screen, he'd seen it all. Germany's discoveries, the phone calls. When he'd seen America arrive at Belgium's house through Germany's screen, he'd moved to America's screen. Now, obviously, he was watching his former colony carry Belgium's body. The screens were all soundless, so he was a bit in the dark on what exactly was going on, but he still watched. In all honesty, it was all he could do to keep his mind off of the fact that more countries were going to decease at the hands of Oliver.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Oliver said. England turned around to look at his doppelganger. He was taken aback by what he saw. Oliver was wearing his disguise. To some extent, it was like looking into a mirror. He looked _exactly _like him. "What do you want?" England asked, trying to sound at least slightly menacing. "Just visiting." Oliver answered. Arthur winced, he even _sounded _like him. Oliver leaned forward to see which screen his prisoner was looking at. "Oh, they've found them…" he turned to leave. "Where are you going?" Inquired England. "To buy a suit." Oliver replied simply. "Huh?" Arthur questioned. "Well," Oliver laughed.

"It appears I'll be going to a funeral soon."

**Ah… I didn't do much to this chapter, I'm sorry. But hey, it's done! And now… to reply to your reviews of amazingness…**

**Alaska F. Braginski and Prussianess-….fixed it.**

**Makorra-…sorry. :/**

**DaphneAngelina432-The next victim? You'll see… *said in spooky, Dracula voice***

**Super Sister- *Cough* SUPAH SEESTAH *cough* Yeah, Oliver doesn't really know the meaning of "not much"… and it's alright, I don't review stories all the time either. Sorry for making you cry... It's a thing… horror stories… yeah.**

**hawthorneash13- Thanks for the complement, *bows* If you haven't read my review, I'll just let you know that I read the cutter America story… loved it.**

**usukfan555- Yeah, Oliver's a dick… and, as you can see, I'VE UPDATED! Was it soon? No. But I UPDATED!**

**Ok… that's all… Thanks for reading~!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm back. Hi. Here's a chapter, just for you. You should feel special. **

**DISCLAIMER**

**Do I even have to say it? Do I?**

Chapter 7

"Okay, we'll set them down in here." Germany sighed. Alfred gave him a look, "Your guest room?" he questioned. "Well, yes…" Ludwig answered. "Why? Is there something wrong with that?" The German nation set The Netherlands down on a worn out yellow mattress. America sighed and gently laid Belgium next to him. The two countries began to leave. "Just so you know," America said. "I will _never_ spend the night at your house." "That's fine with me." Germany mumbled. Alfred didn't seem to hear the other nation and headed for the door, but stopped, "Hey, are we going to plan a funeral?" he asked. Germany thought for a moment, "We should be able to plan one. I'll arrange a meeting for it." America smiled, "Cool, and one more thing." he said, raising a finger to make his point.

"What?"

"Buy some air freshener."

Meanwhile, Oliver was arriving back at "his" house holding a receipt. Of course, it was from his newly-ordered suit, which would be arriving in a couple days. He sighed happily; Oliver had been out for a while and was pretty glad to be home, "Ah, such a stressful trip…" he complained. Luckily, the strange man had made more than one stop. After the incident with Belgium, Oliver had found himself wanting to make _more _cupcakes. So, he'd gone to the store and bought a few ingredients that England had little of: flour, milk, eggs, sugar, and bleach. He'd figured the last ingredient would be a great way to add his own special touch.

Suddenly, the phone began to ring. Oliver narrowed his eyes at the device. He cleared his throat a few times on his way to answer. After testing his voice once to make sure he sounded like Arthur, he quickly answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey dude! It's me, America."

Oliver nodded, running through his mind how England would act around this particular nation. "Oh, how are you?" he asked. "Good, good…" Alfred replied, "did you hear about Belgium?" Oliver smirked, but kept his voice composed, "Yes, actually. It surely was sad news." America nodded vigorously, despite the fact that "England" wouldn't be aware of that. "Yeah, but get this! Germany and I went over there to get Belgium, and we ended up finding The Netherlands too!" Oliver tried to act surprised, "What?! Really? Do you think someone killed them?" America went for the act, "Yeah, where else could the gas have come from?" he answered. "I see…" Oliver trailed off. He made a mental note to be more discrete next time. Alfred sighed, "Anyway, Germany's arranging a meeting to plan a funeral, I figured I'd let you know so you can be there." Oliver grimaced, the American was putting him in danger. A bunch of countries in one place? Oliver would be hurled to the center of it! Despite this, he still couldn't afford to have his cover blown. "Ah, yes, I'll be there then." he said flatly. "Cool, I'll see you then, ok?" Oliver smiled, "Yes, you sure will." With that, he hung up. Still smiling, Oliver went to make his _special _cupcakes.

England paced around the checkered room. He was nervous, angry, sad, confused, and quite frankly, bored. He had noticed America on the phone, but was unaware that the American had been talking to the doppelganger. Through all his emotion, Arthur was more or less trying to think. '_Who will that bastard kill next? Is there some sort of pattern…? Bloody hell! Why am I not out of here by now?! Dear God, I have to get out!' _At that England began to frantically search the room for something that would help him get out. He was feeling the glossy walls for a switch, or button, or _something_. "Come on…." He muttered hopefully.

"Well, what exactly are _you _doing?" Oliver's eerie voice filled the room. He didn't feel like acting at the moment. Arthur jumped and whipped around quickly, "Where do you come from?!" Arthur questioned loudly. The demon ignored the question, "Are you hungry?" he asked. England calmed down for a moment. When was the last time he hate? A day? Maybe longer… Yes, he was hungry, but there had to be a catch. "I'm not falling for that!" the Englishman pointed an accusing finger at his evil twin, who raised his arms defensively. Oliver narrowed his eyes, "Falling for what?" he inquired. England shook his head, frustrated, "Don't play dumb! I know what you're doing! You starve me, and then you feed me….poison! Or glass! Or… or…" Oliver shook his head and laughed, "Arthur, look up." He demanded. Hesitantly, the Englishman obliged. "Okay." He said. Oliver nodded. "Look to your left."

"…Okay."

"Now your right."

"Okay."

"Down."

"Where are you going with this?"

The doppelganger's expression remained blank, "How many living do you see?" he asked. England looked around again, "Quite a few…" he answered. "Exactly." Oliver replied. "I can't kill you yet, I haven't tortured you long enough." Arthur looked down, realizing that what Oliver said was true. "Now, I ask you again." Oliver said, "Are you hungry?" England looked at him suspiciously before letting out a sigh,

"What's for dinner?"

**Yup, pulled that cliffhanger straight from, "Whose line is it, Anyway?" When they did the 'Worse cliffhanger lines leading into a commercial' thing, for some reason I wanted to see if I could make it work. Did I do it? Review and tell me….NOW. Review reply time….**

**Prussianess- Yup! Fixed! Sorry for killing characters you like…. But anyway. Will Japan die next? You'll find out… eventually.**

**hetalia4life- Someone might figure it out, someone might not. Who's next? CAN'T TELL YOU. Just keep reading….**

**Super Sister- I'm resisting the urge to say your username like a drunken midget… I will update again as soon as possible, ok?**

**DaphneAngelina432- You liked my cliffhanger! Anyway, yup, 2p!England is awesome. And I'm not sure you want The Netherlands to come back… *imagines zombie apocalypse***

**usukfan555-** **yay! You liked my cliffhanger too! Do you like this one…? Sorry for killing, it totally not my choice… *polishes machete* I really hate typing those parts, *loads pistol* they make me so angry with myself. *lights house on fire***

**Alright, that's it. Sorry about the short chapter… **


	8. Chapter 8

**Herro. Sorry for being gone for so long, I'm lazy… I'm going to apologize for not emphasizing Germany's accent in the last chapter. I got a bit tired of adding words to my Microsoft dictionary. I'll try to bear it this time…Anyway, here's the chapter.**

Chapter 8

England sat in silence with a plate of cupcakes. The English country was reluctantly stuffing the pastries into his mouth, he couldn't deny that they were delicious. Although, the pile of sugar could hardly be called lunch, but, seeing that he had no choice in the matter, Britain continued to eat. After he'd realized how hungry he was, England had been forced to wait about an hour for Oliver to make cupcakes that didn't contain any extra ingredients. Even so, Arthur was actually a bit thankful that his captor was feeding him. He could only hope that the large amount of sweets wouldn't make him sick…

"Okay, now zen, vhere are ve planning to have ze funeral?" for once, Germany wasn't yelling and screaming at everyone. He actually seemed a bit sad for once. Oliver sat nervously towards the end of the long table. He'd made sure his disguise was _perfect_, and was continually mumbling random nonsense in an attempt to practice sounding like Arthur.

"Do you agree, England?" a stern voice cut through Oliver's thoughts. "Ah! Y-yes!" he stopped to clear his throat, "that's a wonderful idea." He didn't even know who he was addressing. A few people nodded and Germany wrote something down in a notebook. Oliver assumed that his answer was accepted and got back to thinking. '_That German…he and that god forsaken American were the ones found the bodies!_' he reminded himself. '_I'll have to get rid of them…_'

Before Oliver knew it, the meeting was over. "That wasn't so bad." He muttered to himself. He stood up, straightened out his tie, and began to casually stroll to the door. That is, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Huh?" Oliver turned to see who was addressing him. Before him stood an annoyed-looking France. '_Alright…_' Oliver thought, '_I believe I'm supposed to hate this person…what's Arthur's name for him again? Toad? Yeah… that was it…_' "What do you want, Toad!" Oliver yelled. Francis appeared confused, "Toad..?" he questioned, "Is zat my new nickname…?" "Uuhhm..." Oliver trailed off. '_No no no no no no…. I was wrong… this is bad, so very bad! I have to get out of here… I need an excuse! Think Oliver… Think for God's sake!_' "I-I'm sorry, I'm just tired… so very tired… I….I have to go." Before France could say anything, the one who he thought was England had left. France narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He walked over to America and tapped him on the shoulder, "Hey, do you zink England is acting a bit weird…?" he asked. Alfred was silent for a moment, thinking, "Yeah… a little bit. Why?" France turned back to the door, then back to America, "Do you zink something's wrong?" he asked. "Well yeah," America answered, "but there's _always_ been something wrong with him." "Ah, yes, I guess you're right…" France trailed off. Alfred laughed obnoxiously, "How about this, I'll visit him tomorrow and make sure he doing ok, ok?" "I'll come too." replied Francis. The two countries then left the building.

America hummed an unknown song as he walked towards his car. The drive home was relatively peaceful, with minor traffic. Still, something felt off as the American entered his home. Feeling the slightest bit paranoid, Alfred took a walk through his home, when he reached his kitchen, a feeling of uneasiness washed over him. Sitting on the table, was a note.

_Dear 1,_

_ I don't think you know this yet, but a friend of mine is living fairly close to you. I'm pretty sure your dumbass friend brought him here. I have to warn you though, the guy's a psycho. Unless you have a death wish, I don't recommend talking to him. I would talk to you in person, but I have some business to handle. Also, just to get something straight, I'm not doing this for you. I just need a bit of help taking down this ass. _

_See you soon,_

_2_

It was a short note, but apparently this wouldn't be the last time that Alfred heard from this "2". "I'm too tired for this." He mumbled. He went to his room and fell asleep.

**Okay, that's all I'm doing for now, sorry for making such a short chapter…** **Anyway, time to reply to reviews!**

**Prussianess- continue to obsess! Please! And thanks for enjoying my cliffhanger. :D**

**Hetalia4life- Okay okay, here's more… sheesh... Yeah, I try to put funny stuff at the end/beginning of chapters, that's just me…**

**DaphneAngelina432- Seeeeee?! Oh, and thanks!**

**Danieladejesus99-Oh you bet it's real… *serious face***

**Super Sister-I can't hold it in…. SUPAH SEESTAH! *cough* sorry… **

**Alright! That's it for now… Feel free to PM me if you have an idea for who should die next…and/or how. And if you have a recommendation for a story, I do those too. BYE! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey! Guess what, I'M ALIVE! I also made another chapter…**

Chapter 9

Oliver paced his, or rather, _England's_ room nervously. Earlier, while exploring the household, Oliver found the portal he'd came back through. It was the exact same one that Arthur had opened, but it opened outwards due to the fact that Oliver had opened it from the opposite side. The only problem was that it was _still_ open. This meant that _anyone _from his dimension could be here right now. This also meant that Oliver's plan could be interfered with. As if pretending to be the United Kingdom wasn't hard enough. Now there was a possibility of having to face one of the others….here. "To have a fight like that, in a place like this…" Oliver mumbled. Luckily, Oliver had managed to shut the passage again. Now at least no one else could tinker with his schemes. For now he'd just have to ignore his intense paranoia and move on. After all, that was all he could do as far as that goes. As for the rest of his plan, Oliver had a couple ideas.

Inside the checkered room, England was lying down on his back and staring at the ceiling. It took him a while but the Englishman figured out that there were screens on the ceiling as well. Sealand was among the ones up there. Watching someone of Peter's age made Arthur feel like a bit of a pedophile, but it was all he could really do to keep himself occupied. By now he'd more or less gotten over Oliver's past kills. The screens of The Netherlands and Belgium had been shut off, so Britain didn't have to watch any decomposing bodies. He was thankful for that. He was also thankful that it'd been a few days and Oliver hadn't murdered anyone else yet. It still left room to wonder though. Who would be next? Japan? Germany? France? America? And since the screens turn of when the country the screen displays dies, what would it be like when all the screens were dark? England knew that he was only making himself depressed, but he couldn't help but be curious.

It was 4:47 in New York, and Alfred was sleeping soundly. Well,_ almost_ soundly. "Hey douchebag!" a voice called out. "Wake up!" America shifted under his covers, without caring who was addressing him, he simply let out a drawn out whine. "Get up!" the voice called again, kicking Alfred's mattress this time. "No…" America replied stubbornly, shoving his face into his pillow. Suddenly, Alfred felt a rush of cold air as his blanket was thrown off of him. "Gah!" the American sat up quickly. He leaned forward and felt around in the dark for his blanket, when he found it, he snatched it back. After wrapping it around him, he looked up at the figure in front of him. "Do I know you?" he asked. What America assumed was a man shrugged, "Kinda sorta, but that doesn't matter. You're going to help me." Alfred chuckled, "No no no. First, you tell me who you are, then _I_ decide whether or not I want to help you. Got it?" America was patiently waiting for a reply when he heard a small, _click_. Then, he was blinded.

America squinted, "Dude! You could at least warn me before you turn of the light!" he complained. "Whatever…" the voice grumbled. Alfred sighed, looking at the back of the person before him. He looked familiar… "So, you gonna tell me who you are?" The man turned around to reveal dark brown hair, tan skin, and shades. Weirdest of all, his eyes were a dark shade of crimson. "Alexander." He mumbled. America nodded, "Good, good. That's a step in the right direction." He put a hand on Alexander's shoulder, "Now what the hell do you need help with at five in the morning?"

Meanwhile, in London, Francis confidently knocked on Arthur's door. America said that he'd visit, and of course France had said he'd join him, but right now France was bored; he was also worried. So now he was standing outside of Britain's. A light rain drizzled calmly as the Frenchman waited. Eventually, the door was answered. "Hello…" Oliver trailed off. "Bon Jour, Britain." Francis replied. "May I come in?" Oliver, confused, didn't know exactly how to reply. "Sure…" he said. '_Doesn't he hate me?_' Oliver thought as he let France inside.

"What do you want?" Oliver asked. He attempted to come off as angered, but only sounded nervous. "What's wrong?" Francis asked. "You're acting stranger than normal." "A-ah… yes…." Oliver stuttered. '_What do I say?!'_ he thought. His dilemma was interrupted by a _ding_! Oliver stood up quickly and headed for the kitchen. He returned with a plethora of cupcakes. "England! Why are you cooking?" Francis exclaimed. "I felt like it…" Oliver answered. "Will you eat one?" "No!" France replied instantly. Oliver stopped in his tracks. "What?" he asked. His voice was low and angry. "You heard me!" Francis replied loudly. " I will never eat your filth!" Oliver was ready to make the Frenchman eat those words. '_Now, now, let's not make a mess….' _Thought Oliver, '_Arthur's the bad cook, not me._'

With a sigh, Oliver sat down at the dining room table. "I just, worked so hard at these…" He tailed off. France had stopped his panic and was listening. He'd even taken his own seat at the table to listen to what Oliver had to say. "I know you hate my food… so I tried to make it better, for you." '_Dear God this is stupid.._' Oliver thought, '_this'll never work! What am I thinking?!_' To his surprise, France reached over and grabbed a cupcake. "Just one…" he said. Oliver smiled, "One is enough for me!" he assured. '_Just one bite and he gets a mouthful of glass._' Oliver thought.He'd spent all night working on this recipe. It involved smashing glass shards until they were small enough to not be noticed, but large enough to cut. Oliver watched as the Frenchman leaned his head closer to the cupcake.

'_Just one bite,_' Oliver thought, '_Just one bite…._'

**(Insert creepy music here) Done! HAHA YES! I did it! Now, to reply to your amazing reviews…**

**Prussianess- Yes. Yes they are. MWAHAHA.**

**Hetalia4life- As much as I'd** **like to kill an Asian, I can't do that just yet…**

**Alright, you can review now. :D **


	10. Chapter 10

**Whew! Alright, chapter's done, aren't you proud of me…? Yeah, let's just pretend I heard whatever you said to that. Anyway, here's your chapter…Sorry, this one's pretty short. **

Chapter 10

Oliver smiled in anticipation as Francis continued to lean in to take a bite of the cupcake. He was clearly hesitant, which annoyed Oliver slightly, but the pseudo Englishman continued grinning despite his boredom. As long as France ate part of the cupcake, everything would be OK. Suddenly, when the cupcake was almost pressed against his teeth, Francis paused. "I can't do it." he murmured under his breath. "What?" Oliver asked with a slight laugh."I can't do it," France repeated, "I can't lower myself to the level of eating your…_ food_." With that, the Frenchman set the cupcake back down on the table.

Oliver sighed, "Well…that's too bad…" he mumbled. "Yes…it is." replied Francis, "but I really want to know what's going o—" "I mean, I really thought that you wouldn't make this hard for me." Oliver interrupted. "Well, I guess I was wrong…" France looked confused, "What are you talking about?" he inquired, staring intently at Oliver. I wasn't until then that he noticed that Oliver had been playfully toying with a knife. "E-England…?" France stuttered nervously. Oliver's eyes flickered up to Francis, then back to the knife. He began quietly humming an eerie tune. "I get it," France assured, "you need some time alone, non? I'll just leave…" He began to make his way towards the door. France moved his hand towards the door handle. Then, with a barely audible, _whish! _, there was a knife pinning the Gallic man to the wall.

Oliver giggled as Francis cried out in pain. Strolling over to the Frenchman, he produced another knife from his pocket. "I don't want you to leave yet." stated Oliver simply.

In the checkered room, England had been watching the scene in horror and intrigue. He'd become bored and had decided to look at France's screen around the time that he was about to eat the cupcake. Britain wasn't sure what had been in the pastry. Judging by Oliver's reaction to Francis not eating it, there was no way it was good. The second the knife went through France's hand he'd let out a sudden, "No!" but it wasn't until he saw the fear in France's eyes that he finally stood up and began to beat against the part of the room that Oliver always came in through. He _knew _nothing would happen, and he _knew _that France was his enemy, and he _knew _he was probably overreacting, but he couldn't bear to see someone he knew so well just die. So, he continued to punch and kick the wall in a panic. When his knuckles started bleeding, he stopped. "Dammit!" he cursed in frustration. He kicked the wall again, for a good measure.

America put his head in his hands, confused, "…I don't get it, explain again?" He and Alexander were sitting in his dining room, and Alex was attempting to explain the situation to him, which was going a bit slower. Alexander let out a rasped sigh, "Alright dumbass, let me translate this in a language you'll understand, ok?" "Yeah ok, sure, whatever." Alfred mumbled. Alexander nodded, "Ok, first of all, _I_…" he paused to gesture to himself. "…am _you_." He gestured to America. "Got it." America replied, giving a thumbs-up. "Really?" Alexander asked. "Nope." Alfred answered. Alexander mumbled a string of curses to himself before speaking again, "What don't you get?!" he demanded.

"Well," America began, "My eyes aren't red…" Alexander nodded, "Ok, basic appearance then. See, I'm from an alternate dimension. Meaning that I'm you in an alternate form. Does that make sense?" Strangely enough, Alfred nodded in understanding. "Praise the motherfucking lord!" Alexander exclaimed in happiness.

"W…what's _wrong _with you?" Francis sputtered out, Oliver didn't answer. Instead, he lightly ran the blade of his knife across the Frenchman's neck, drawing a small amount of blood. It took all of France's willpower not to flinch from the pain. Any sudden movement could force the knife into his throat. "Hm, I'm going to enjoy this very much." Oliver giggled. Francis remained silent for a moment, wiping blood off of his neck with his free hand. "You aren't England…" he trailed off. "What was that?" questioned Oliver. "You heard me… I won't allow myself to believe that you're Angleterre." Oliver made a noise similar to a growl, and brought the knife to France's neck again. "Be quiet," he ordered, "You should know that this is going to be slow and painful, and I—" Oliver's rant was interrupted by the phone ringing loudly. "Gah!" he yelled. He walked into the kitchen where the phone was, knife in hand.

'_Now's my chance…_' France thought. He stared at the knife penetrating his hand. He knew what he was about to do would hurt, but it wasn't nearly as bad as what would happen when that _psycho _returned. '_Un…_' Francis took a deep breath, grabbing the handle of the knife with his free hand. '_Deux…_' He gripped the handle tighter, bracing himself for the pain. '_Trois._' He yanked the blade out of his as hard as he could. "Ack! Mon dieu!" he cried. He winced, that was loud. Fortunately, Oliver hadn't seemed to notice anything. Mumbles could be heard from the kitchen as Oliver spoke with someone on the phone, "Yes…I'll be there…ok…tomorrow?..." Quickly, Francis grabbed threw the door open and ran.

"Ok, next, let's talk about Oliver." Alexander began. "Oliver?" America questioned. "Arthur's alternate." Alexander explained. "Oliver is an insane son of a bitch, okay?" Alfred nodded, "Okay." "Now," Alexander continued. "You should know that we're immortal, well, _mostly_ immortal. There are two ways to kill us. While I'm here, I can die just as easily as you can. So, at the moment, we both can live as long as we want, but a shot to the head and we're fucked. The second way to die is if my alternate, you, dies first. You could consider me a 'player 2' if you want. That's how it is for all of us. I have no idea why this is but for some reason, Oliver wanted to take Arthur's place in your world for a long time. He got his chance a couple hundred years ago."

"A couple hundred years ago…" America trailed off. "The Revolution?" "Is that what it's called? Interesting…" Alexander continued. "All I know is that Arthur got so depressed that day that he lost nearly all his strength, it was enough for Oliver to transport here. Sadly, he had to transport through Arthur himself, and when Arthur began gaining some of Oliver's personality traits, such as being a crazy freak… Arthur noticed. Using magic, Arthur sent Oliver back here. This pissed off Mr. Psycho a _lot_. He was gone for a few years so I didn't hear about that last part until recently, but apparently Oliver's grudge grew pretty freakin' big. Now he's here, so you're in a world of shit." Surprisingly, America had been intently listening to the entire explanation, "So what happens to Britain?" he asked. "I don't know." answered Alexander. "Oliver wants to get rid of Arthur, I don't know how though." "Alright." Alfred mumbled. '_This is_ _bullshit._' He thought. "Just one question." "Yeah?" replied Alexander. "Why the hell do you have nails in your bat over there?" America nodded his head toward a bat propped up against the wall, full of nails. "Oh, that… protection. Plus, it looks pretty badass, right?" "Yeah, I guess so…" America trailed off; he stood up and examined the bat. Upon closer inspection, he noticed something that he wished he hadn't seen. "Alex?" he asked. "Yeah?" Alexander answered. "You wanna tell me why there's fresh blood on this thing?" Alex smiled, "Yeah, someone stopped me when I was on my way to your room. I didn't have time for the guy, so I killed them."

America was confused, "In my house?" he asked. "Yup." Alexander confirmed. "But, the only other person here is…oh God." America quickly ran down the hallways that led to his front door. "Lithuania!" he called out frantically. No answer. America's stomach tightened. "No no no no no…" Alfred murmured repeatedly as he ran. He stopped in his tracks when he found that his worst fear had come true. "No…." he whispered.

There, on the tile, was the silhouetted, lifeless figure of Toris, as well as a pool of crimson around his head.

**There's another cliffhanger for you, I know how much you guys like those…I'd translate the French that I used but it's really easy so your friend Google can help you out with that.**

**Alaska F. Braginski- wow, not a French fry fan? I get it…**

**DaphneAngelina432- France is alive. You're welcome. **

**Prussianess- …*raises hand*…BUT I'M NOT STEALING! I SWEAR!**

**CactusNoir- truer words have never been spoken.**

**danieladejesus99- He didn't do it… you're very persuasive!**

**SUPAH SEESTAH- Thank you! And France**_** is**_** stylish! And stylish he shall remain! For now…**

**Alright, it's finished. I just want to let the readers of Epic Adventures know that I AM working on the next "episode" of that. I also want to let everyone know that I am writing two new Hetalia fanfictions that I'll should be able to post within this lifetime. One of them is a horror one shot. I'll tell you when I upload them. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Before I start typing the chapter, I just want to say that I can't believe how many people wanted France to live… I have nothing against him, but I've seen him get so much criticism that I thought that more than one person would want him to die. Anyway, I'll stop bugging you…**

Chapter 11

Francis ran.

He didn't have a very good idea where he was running to. He'd originally planned to go home, but he was a bit lost. The Frenchman had become paranoid after his narrow escape from Oliver and thought he was being followed. In an attempt to be clever, he took a few random turns to make sure that anyone following him wouldn't know where he lived. Sadly, that plan had failed when he realized he had no idea where he was. And, of course, now it was raining. Britain hadn't been kidding when he said it rained a lot in London. Fortunately, the rain helped Francis clean off the dried blood on his hand. Even better, his wound had stopped bleeding, but he'd still have to disinfect it later. He sighed. True, England was his enemy, but he was also his brother, and not _truly_ killing each other was an unspoken rule. What had he done to make England hate him this much? He asked himself the question, but he knew the answer. That _wasn't _England. That _wasn't_ his brother, so there _weren't _any rules, spoken or not. '_So where is Britain?_' Francis thought.

Oliver grimaced, after he'd hung up the phone, he'd come back to continue killing France. Of course, he'd come back to see that his prisoner was gone. Francis had left nothing but a bloodied knife and an open door. "Oliver!" a muffled voice called. "You again?" Oliver muttered to himself with a raspy sigh, walking upstairs. He emotionlessly passed by framed photos, paintings, and a mirror. He stopped to smile at his reflection. "I know you can hear me!" the voice called again, less muffled now. With a sigh, Oliver turned and walked into England's spell room. After giving a familiar magic circle on the floor a dirty look, he kept walking. He continued walking until finally, he went through the wall. "Yes, Arthur?" he said. His voice was like honey and gunpowder.

America examined Lithuania's lifeless body, "You…you killed him!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Well, yeah." answered Alex. "You murdered Lithuania!" yelled America, turning to Alex. "Yup, see, he was kinda in my way." Alex explained, "Plus, I have a grudge against his alternate." "Toris is dead…because of you!" Alfred knew he was being repetitive, but he didn't know what else to say, he was becoming more scared by the second. "Yes…I killed him." said Alex, "You know, it doesn't matter how you say it, it still means the same thing." "You _bitch_!" America roared, ramming his fist into Alex's shoulder. Surprised, Alex latched his hand onto his shoulder in pain, but America wasn't done yet. With a swift movement, he kicked Alex in the stomach, hard. All of his breath was knocked out of him, but he only staggered a bit. That was, until, America landed a direct punch on his doppelganger's face, Alex was instantly on the ground, Alfred towered over him. "You killed Belgium, didn't you? And the Netherlands?" he accused. Alex didn't have enough breath to say anything, so he remained silent. Alfred kicked Alex again watched blood trickle from the corner of his mouth. "You're one sick son of a bitch." said America darkly. Slowly, Alex reached his hand out for a nearby object. He held eye contact with Alfred so the American wouldn't see what he was reaching for. '_Just a bit farther…_' Alex's hand latched onto something. '_Yes!_' "You're a real… d-dumbass…" Alex rasped. Alfred was astonished, "What did you just—"

_CRACK!_

Alex had hit America directly in the ribs with his nail-loaded bat. Alfred cursed and dropped to his knees. With a sudden rush of energy, Alex jumped up to his feet. Blood trailed from his nose, but he ignored it. He roughly grabbed Alfred by his hair and forced him to face him. America's eyes were more intense with anger. Without saying anything, Alex slammed Alfred's face into the wall, repeatedly, until he was sure the American nation was unconscious. Alex dropped America with a sigh. He turned to Lithuania again, "Why did this fucker like you so much?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

In London, Francis was attempting to enjoy the red wine he'd ordered. He hadn't expected to find a French eatery in England, so obviously it was a pleasant surprise when he found the place. He could only imagine how angry Arthur must have been when he'd heard about the construction of the restaurant. It had given France something to chuckle at, but he was still a bit shaken. He'd been working hard to conceal the wound on his hand. Luckily, the waiter that'd sat him hadn't noticed it, but he was a bit taken aback by the disheveled state of the Frenchman's clothes and hair. After realizing this, France had retreated to the restroom to clean himself up. The best he could do was wash his hands, splash some water on his face, and use his fingers to brush through his hair. It wasn't much, but it made a difference. Of course, now he was back at his table, sipping wine and waiting for his meal.

He had a plan. First, he was going to eat. Then, he was going to ask for directions to the nearest hotel, go there, get some sleep, and then take the next plane to America. Alfred had to know what he'd found out. Plus, considering that America had said himself that he was going to visit Britain, it'd be pretty bad if Francis didn't deliver the news soon. France went over everything in his head over and over until his food arrived. Then, all he cared about was his hunger. Francis let his mind rest as he enjoyed the warm taste of French cuisine.

In the checkered room, England hadn't been enjoying such luxuries. Quite the opposite, in fact. So he'd called for Oliver, he had a couple problems he needed to express. Oliver had arrived, surprisingly grim, and was standing silently, waiting for Arthur to speak. "First of all," Britain began, "I haven't been able to relieve myself in… how long have I been here?" "About a week." Oliver answered. "Just a moment…" Oliver left the room. A couple minutes later, a silver bucket flew through the wall, clattering on the floor loudly. Oliver poked his head through next, "You're welcome." he said. With that, Oliver's head disappeared. England was left alone again. "What the…" he trailed off.

Oliver had a twisted sense of humor.

**Done! Yeah… I wanted to have a funny-ish ending. Considering all the stuff that happened in this chapter. Anyway now you know where the checkered room is! Yaaay! Also, something I realized… People sigh a lot in my stories. I looked through them out of boredom, and EVERYBODY JUST KEEPS SIGHING. Then, later on, I watched some Hetalia. EVERYBODY KEPT SIGHING. I watched some other anime episodes, SO MANY SIGHS. Therefore, I've concluded that if I ever go to Japan, I will be lucky if I meet someone who can form a whole sentence without sighing all over the place…. Oh hey, people reviewed my last chapter…**

…**GAH. What are you people doing reviewing chapter 1? THIS IS 11.**

**BuddhaWolf-Thanks! And, ninja experience…? Oh and about your other reviews, I wrote more…and I hope I answered MOST of your questions. **

**Prussianess- I swear… I read your review and LAUGHED SO HARD….I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY.**

**MintyDaze- That first review was very dignified. As for the second one, yeah, school is so mean… I'll try to get around to reading your "twisted" stories.**

**DaphneAngelina432-Yeah… Alex is pretty bad…Thanks for liking this story!**

**WeirdCornChip- Interesting username change, it reminds me of when I got these Fritos and…never mind. Anyway, WOW, that sounded pretty morbid until I got dome McDonalds.**

**SUPAH SEESTAH-Sorry, but French Fry is cool… And hey… I updated.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry about taking so long…..I had to do that school thing….But I'm back now! Isn't that nice?**

Chapter 12

"Ow… my head hurts." complained America, "Hey! Why can't I see anything?" About ten feet away from him, Alexander smirked, "That's because you're blindfolded, dumbass." he explained. "Alex?!" Alfred said in disbelief, "You bitch! Untie me!" the American heard his darker self sigh in pity, "I wouldn't have had to tie you up if you'd hadn't attacked me." "You killed Lithuania!" America accused. "Belgium and the Netherlands, too!" "No." replied Alex, "I didn't kill those other two. That was somebody else. If I had to guess, I'd say it was Oliver." Alfred felt like screaming, "_Oliver?_ There is no Oliver! Do you think I'm stupid? Or is this some sick fantasy of yours?!" Alexander lightly chuckled. "This is why you're tied up." he said, "If you'd just believed me, things would've been different." "Are you _crazy_?!" America asked loudly. Alex thought for a moment, "Well, uh….That's not important. Right now I need to find Oliver and kill him. Then I can leave you alone and we never have to see each other again." Before Alfred could protest, Alex was gone.

At England's house, Oliver straightened out his bowtie. Today was the big day, the funeral for Belgium and the Netherlands. Oliver had decided to make some desserts for it, as a gift for the mourners. There was a pie and some cupcakes waiting for him near the door. After giving himself a quick smile in the mirror, he grabbed the food and left jubilantly. If everything went as planned, today would be a horrendously tragic day for the countries of the world. He hummed a bit in happiness as he slipped into Britain's car and drove away.

Everyone at the funeral was solemn. Little words were spoken despite the amount of people there. France was somehow able to make it, although he looked a bit exhausted. Spain was there to greet who he thought was England. He barely looked up as Oliver walked towards him. "Thank you for coming." The Spanish country said in an emotionless voice. "Are you alright?" asked Oliver, sympathetically placing a hand on Antonio's shoulder. "I'm fine." he answered, managing a slight smile. Oliver was silent for a moment, '_Should I give it to_ him_?_' he asked himself.

"You were really close to them, huh?" questioned Oliver casually. "Kind of…" replied Spain. "Well, I got you this." said Oliver, lifting a bag towards Antonio. "It's a pie." He explained with a smile. Spain frowned, "Sorry, I'm not sure your food will make me feel much better." Oliver twitched a little, '_Take it, you worthless piece of—_' he stopped himself, if he got mad, he'd be more likely to mess something up. "Please," he insisted, "it's the _least_ I could do." "I agree." Spain replied sarcastically. Oliver grimaced, '_Enjoy your pie._' He thought angrily, he turned to leave. "Hey." Antonio grabbed Oliver's shoulder. Oliver stopped, but didn't turn around. "Hm?" He heard Spain sigh, "Thank you, England." he said.

'_Good, that's done…_' thought Oliver. '_Now to find who I'm really looking for._' Quickly, he jerked his head in different directions, he caught a glimpse of bright blonde hair and followed it. It wasn't hard to dodge the plethora of mourners who blocked his path. When he was next to him, Oliver tapped the blonde's shoulder, "Hello, Germany." he said, just barely remembering the name. "Hi, Britain." Ludwig replied. He didn't look like the situation had affected him at all. "This was a tragic turn of events." Oliver began. Germany nodded. "Yes, but it wasn't an accident." "Really?" inquired Oliver, "How do you know?" "A bomb that released chlorine gas vas placed in Belgium's house." Ludwig explained. "Incredible," replied Oliver, pretending to be surprised, "that murderer must've been pretty clever, hm?" Germany gave Oliver a look, "No," he answered, "just lucky." Oliver's smile faltered, "Anyway, I made cupcakes, and—" "Thanks," Germany interrupted, "but I don't think ve vant anymore funerals anytime soon." '_I give up!_' thought Oliver. "Don't worry, I_ bought_ them." he lied. Germany thought for a moment, "Alright, I'll have one." he said. "Actually, I was going to ask if you could hand them out for me." Oliver corrected, holding out the tray of cupcakes, "You see, I wasn't planning on staying long, but I didn't want these to go to waste…" "Oh…" replied Germany, taking the tray from Oliver, "I guess I could do that, why are you being so nice all of a sudden?" Oliver smiled sheepishly, "I figured now would as good a time as any to do _something_ outside of my comfort zone." After seeing that Germany didn't quite accept his answer, he began to walk away quickly, "Oops! Uh…Sorry, I _really _have to go!"

'_Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod…_'

He continued to walk, almost jog, to the car. Then, he hastily left.

A good ten feet away, France stared, wide-eyed, at Oliver. _That man_ was the one who'd tried to kill him. _That man_ was the reason his hand was injured. _That man_ was the reason he feared for his life everywhere he went. And if he had to take a guess, _that man_ was the reason he was at a funeral right now. He flinched when a hand was put onto his shoulder, the Frenchman whipped around to see Germany, holding a plate of cupcakes.

"Germany!" France yelled, startled. "Sorry to startle you." Ludwig replied, not sounding very sorry at all, "Britain brought cupcakes for everyone, so I'm passing them out." Francis let out a gasp. Germany gave the Gallic man a confused look, "Vhat?" he questioned in a flat tone. "Ah! Uhm…" France cleared his throat, "It's nothing, how many of those have you given out already?" The German man glared at Francis, "Why do you need to know?" he asked, a bit passive-aggressively. France gulped, should he tell him? Would he believe him if he did? Francis mentally slapped himself across the face. _Of course_ Germany wouldn't believe him. What reason did he have to? He could show him the wound on his hand, or would that just look like dedication? England was _technically_ his enemy, after all.

Finally, France decided to speak, "I was just wondering if anyone had died from Britain's horrendous cooking yet." he said, managing a smug smile. Ludwig sighed, "Now isn't a time for jokes." He said flatly, walking past the Frenchman. Francis watched to make sure no one took any of the deadly pastries that were being offered to them. It seemed that no one had much of an appetite. That was good, but France had the sudden urge to leave. The atmosphere here was filled with depression and paranoia, you could _feel_ it. Feeling a bit paranoid himself, Francis left.

Through the screens in the checkered room, Arthur could see just about everything everyone was doing. He could also see Alfred, at his house, tied up and blindfolded. Of course, he'd seen the chain of events that'd led to this. He'd mourned for Lithuania, and was becoming increasingly depressed. He had no idea who would die next, but he could take a guess. It wasn't always right, but it was something to do. And then there was that bucket, sitting on the other side of the room. '_There's no way in hell I'm using that thing…_' he thought. It made him feel a bit better knowing that his dignity was still intact, but not by much. His physical composure was pretty much gone as he was currently sprawled out carelessly on the floor with his shoulders against the wall to prop his head up a little. He'd already taken off part of his uniform due to the heat in the checkered room and was now wearing nothing but a white dress shirt and his pants, both of which were now wrinkled. He hadn't showered lately and his hair was disheveled, he was pretty sure he smelt bad, too. He was bored, very bored, in fact. It was kind of good though, it gave him time to think. Now, he had one question on his mind, '_What had been in that pie?_'

Sadly, the only time he could see Oliver is if the demon interacted with someone who was available on the screens, so he never saw the pie being made. It was frustrating. "I guess there's only one way to find out…" Arthur murmured to himself. Lazily, he stood up and headed for Antonio's screen which was conveniently placed at England's eye level. Through the screen, he could see Spain in his car. The bag with the pie in it was resting on his lap. A closer look at the screen revealed that Spain was actually parked outside of his home, eyeing the pie intently.

Far away, in his car, a confused Spaniard sat silently as he examined the dessert in front of him. '_What's in this thing?_' he wondered. He also wondered why the pie was cold, '_Was it not cooked? What would that mean? Would cooking it damage whatever's inside of this thing?_' Spain sighed, "It's not like I was going to eat this thing anyway." He mumbled. "I might as well find out what was put in this thing…" Gently, Antonio used his hands to pry into the crust of the pie.

That's when he realized his mistake.

First, Spain had felt a stinging sensation, a terrible one. With a small gasp of fear and pain, he quickly removed his hands from the dessert. Only, by then it was too late. Scorpions. Gormar scorpions, to be exact. Antonio recognized the black body and red legs from when he ruled Venezuela. There were about ten of them, they were all huge but the lengths still varied. '_I've been stung…_' he thought. He knew what that meant. He had ten minutes to live. He could call Romano if he could make it to the phone, maybe his body would be discovered before he decomposed… "Agh!" Spain exclaimed as he was stung more. How much time did he have now? More stinging, weakly, Antonio attempted to open the door. He failed, his vision was fuzzy and he could feel the poisons affecting him. Then he remembered what Oliver had said,

"_You were really close to them, huh?_"

'_That's why he asked that…_' he thought, '_Britain murdered them, and, for some reason, I was next._' Antonio tried to think more, but found it impossible. That was alright though, he knew what happened. Or, he thought he knew.

'_Britain murdered me…_'

**DONE. I WIN. Or not… I feel like I did. I'm really sorry for taking so long, I'm also sorry for killing Spain… Feel free to grieve though your reviews. (No flames please!)**

**CarrotUndASchtick- You're welcome.**

**Super Sister- Hey look, I updated. :D **

**I hope more people review on this chapter… :/ Oh, and for a hint on the next chapter, there's a question in this chapter wasn't really completely answered. I'm gonna answer it. You can review now…**


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